


Pillow Talk

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Series: All For One, One For All [4]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 01:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7079446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The doubt wouldn’t win. Not this time. Tim wouldn’t let it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by an old headcanon that I’m too lazy to go looking for, where sometimes Damian’s doubt and lack of self-worth just really takes him out of things, and he distances himself/tries to. This is in that ‘verse with Anything It Takes, etc. I realized halfway through writing it that hey - porn. So, that’s a thing. Probably a thing I’m not jumping headfirst into doing, but, you know. A thing. Sorry if said thing is really subpar, as I don’t know what I’m doing. Title based off a song I heard on the radio once, the day I started writing this. ‘Pillowtalk’ by that Zayn guy. This is after Anything it Takes and before What It’s Worth. Damian is probably about 25, and doesn’t know about the deal with Ra’s at this point. For @varevare! Because she’s the love of my life.

It was a rare moment, in which Dick and Jason weren’t there.

It was them.

Just _them_.

Tim was between Damian’s legs, thrusting, drinking in every little sound Damian made as he drove in deeper, harder. Forcing Damian even further out of his mind. The fingers of his right hand were intertwined with Damian’s left, next to the younger’s head, and his left was off to the side, balancing him as he kissed the right side of Damian’s neck, and murmured the sweetest everythings he could into his skin.

“I love you.” He whispered, and Damian gasped, like he didn’t believe it. Like he didn’t _know_. Tim squeezed their clasped hands, pressed his face harder into the muscle of Damian’s throat. “I _love you_.”

Damian moaned, hand thrown above his head fisting the pillowcase as Tim ground their hips together, but otherwise didn’t answer. Didn’t react, or squeeze Tim’s fingers back. Even went as far as to tilt his head to the side, like Tim’s words burned him, and he needed to get away.

A disheartening reaction, but it wasn’t the first time.

Damian struggled. Had, ever since he’d been brought back. Ever since they _got_ him back. Brought him home, to where he belonged. There were times. A _lot_ of times, where he’d just. Go quiet. Stare off. Not be completely there. And try as they might, they could never snap him out of it. Not for hours. A few times, not for _days_.

Tim noticed a pattern, but only barely. It was subtle and inconspicuous. It tended to happen, to emerge, when emotions were involved. When they were all together. Open and happy. Affectionate and honest. Doting on each other, loving each other as much as they could, as much as they always want to.

It wasn’t Pit madness, it was something else. But no one could quite figure out what.

Regardless, Tim couldn’t stand it.

So, he never did.

“I love you.” Tim repeated, shifting his movements into a slow rotation. Damian tensed and tried to pull away again, and Tim followed, peppering his jaw. “I love everything about you.”

Damian’s breaths were heavy, and deep. His chest was pumping so hard, it was like Tim was riding a wave on the ocean. He had to reposition his free hand to keep his balance, to keep Damian from succeeding in potentially throwing him off.

“I love your eyes and your skin.” Tim murmured, brushing his lips along the curve of Damian’s ear. He cut off in a groan, though, as Damian clenched around him. Dug his heels into the middle of Tim’s spine. “Your…Your laugh, and your _smile_.”

He glanced up and across Damian’s face, saw the younger biting his lip, eyes squeezed impossibly tight. He was trying to focus on the sensation, on the _action_ of sex. Not the emotions, not the feelings, not Tim’s words. Not even Tim himself.

And that just wouldn’t do.

“I love your wit, and your kindness and your motherfucking _attitude_.” Tim struggled through a moan, keeping his thrusts in time with his words. He felt Damian’s breath stutter, his tan fingers squeeze Tim’s, almost painfully. It didn’t matter, though, because Tim could feel that rhythm starting to slip, his carnal need overtaking almost all else. He ducked his head back down, and pressed his lips to Damian’s ear, as he began to feel the bed shake beneath his increasing strength. “God, Damian, _do you know what you do to me?_ ”

He felt Damian swallow. His Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. Tim dropped downwards, pinned Damian to the bed with his chest, felt something more than Damian’s sweat rubbing against his own lower stomach.

“Do you know what I would do for you?” Tim grinned against his jaw, felt his gut roll in anticipation, even before Damian trembled beneath him. “Do you know I would do _anything_ for you?”

Damian grunted stubbornly, and bucked upwards, just once. He wanted this over with, Tim could feel his impatience with the movement, and his terror. He wanted his pleasure, and he wanted to leave. Scamper away and hide. From Tim, from the others. From the emotions they all felt for him. From the motions he wouldn’t – couldn’t, probably – accept they all felt for him.

“I’d die for you,” Tim said, rearranging just slightly. Another thrust as he pulled back from Damian’s chest, loomed almost dangerously over him. Damian still had his head tilted away, but he opened his eyes now. Only half-lidded, as he glanced up at Tim through his periphery. “I’d _kill_ for you.”

Damian’s eyes dropped. “…Don’t.”

And that _don’t_ was for so many things.

“Don’t.” His voice was breathy in the repetition, and his breath was a mixture of a gasp and moan as Tim ran his free hand up his chest. Hooked his fingers around Damian’s jaw.

“Get that thought out of your head.” Tim whispered, descending once more, leaning his weight on their joined hands. Tilting his head as rolled his hips slowly, gasping himself as he brushed first their noses together, then their lips. “Get that thought out of your head right now.”

Damian closed his eyes again, but Tim caught the tears in their corners. Smiled when he felt Damian’s own hand slither up his back. Hold him tightly, thought not closely. Like the younger was struggling with whether to pull him in or push him away.

“Get that thought that you don’t _deserve_ to be loved out of your head. That you don’t deserve our love. That you’re – ungh – not _worth_ it.” Tim mumbled. The warmth in his hips was almost too much to bear, as he felt it begin rolling downwards, as his thrusts pushed harder. Damian bucked upwards again, but it was more desperate this time. He squirmed, and Tim felt a pulse against his abs, as Damian began to pant against his mouth. “Get that thought that you don’t deserve to _be here_ out of your damn head, love.”

Those pants turned to grunts, and Damian’s nails dug into his shoulders, as he squeezed Tim’s hand simultaneously. Tim’s rhythm was more than stuttering, now. There was no rhythm at all anymore.

“I want you here. I _need_ you here. _We_ need you here. You deserve _everything_.” Tim breathed, leaning deeper to kiss him. Quickly, desperately. “You deserve the world.” Another kiss, and a press of foreheads. “Come back to me so I can give it to you.”

Damian tried to shake his head, but seemed unable to break away from Tim to do so.

“Come back to me.” Tim murmured. He was still holding Damian’s face, and felt a tear melt against the curve of his hand as Damian’s body began to tighten. “Come back to me, Damian.”

If Damian was going to respond, he didn’t get the chance, as Tim smashed their mouths together, nothing chaste about it this time. He claimed those lips for his own, held firm even as he felt a warmth splash against his chest. He grinned as he dragged all of Damian’s noises down his own throat. Kept tight hold, even as he released, himself.

And even as Damian sagged back into the pillows, his legs dropping away from Tim’s back, Tim didn’t stop kissing him, didn’t stop trying to suck the air from his lungs. He pulled out, yes. Blanketed him completely, regardless of the mess between them, of course. They could clean it up later. Or Dick or Jason could, whenever they came home. If it bothered them enough. (It didn’t tend to.)

He only stopped, when Damian’s fingers slipped from his. When they slid down the bed, and two strong arms wrapped around his hips. He didn’t stop for long, though, just enough to pull back, and focus his attention to Damian’s jaw, clamp his newly free hand against Damian’s other cheek.

“Are you back with me?” Tim asked gently. “Are you back from that deep, dark place?”

“I love you,” Damian gasped wearily, in lieu of an answer, trying to turn back into Tim’s kiss. “I love you…too…s-so much…”

“I know.” Tim promised. “I’ve _always_ known, Damian. We all have. Don’t ever doubt that.” He leaned back again, just enough to flop to his side, tugging Damian along with him. “Just as I don’t want you to ever doubt how much we love you _back_. Okay?”

Damian stared almost innocently back up at him.

“This isn’t some unrequited bullshit.” Tim smiled, hands still as firm on Damian’s face as Damian’s arm were around his waist. “We didn’t bring you back from the dead because we were _bored_ , Damian.”

Damian’s eyes were still teary, his cheeks still red and hot, as he kept his gaze locked with Tim. “…I’m sorry.”

“We’ll get there, don’t you worry. As much as I want you to believe it, as much as I know you _want_ to yourself, I know it’s hard. I know sometimes accepting how much you’re loved is fucking _impossible,_ especially after what you’ve been through. But I have no problem telling you this every day for the rest of your life.” Slowly, Tim unwound his hands from Damian’s face, wrapped them tenderly around his shoulders as he hooked his chin over Damian’s head. “Now, sleep. Because you know if we’re not out by the time _they_ get home, there’s going to be a round two, and I don’t know about you – but I’m _pooped_.”

Damian laughed, and it filled Tim with a different warmth than earlier. This one deep, and unending and bright. Tim leaned down, and kissed Damian’s forehead, a gesture Damian seemed to, tentatively, accept.

“Goodnight, Damian.” Tim whispered. “I love you.”

“Goodnight, Beloved.” Damian returned, burrowing against his chest. And Tim’s heart fluttered, when Damian’s eyelashes did the same against his skin. “I love you more.”

Tim snorted, settling against Damian as well. “Impossible.”


End file.
